


Rare Pairs Last Drabble Writer Standing Round 3

by AlocYrrehc



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Colors, Drabble, F/F, F/M, Infidelity (implied), Last Drabble Writer Standing, M/M, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29196612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlocYrrehc/pseuds/AlocYrrehc
Summary: These are my drabbles for LDWS Round 3: Rare Pairs/Colors
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Percy Weasley, Theodore Nott/Harry Potter
Kudos: 7





	1. Week 1: Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing Theo Nott and Harry Potter  
> Prompt: Blue/Calm

Theodore Nott sat alone, forever alone, in the cavernous Nott library, contemplating whether ten am was too early to begin drinking one’s self to death. “It’s five o’ clock somewhere,” he muttered, quoting that obnoxious line Potter and Granger would chant anytime they arrived at the Leaky even a minute early.

  
Potter.

  
The thought of arriving at Potter’s wedding already a few deep stopped him in his tracks. Not today. Today, he would put on his best dress robes and plaster on a smile while he stood next to the love of his sad, pathetic life as if his heart weren’t breaking to watch him marry someone else.

  
The quiet click of the library door caught Theo’s attention, and he looked up as Fitz, his paid house elf, thankyouverymuchHermioneGranger, entered, a blue envelope in his hand. He recognized the handwriting immediately and tore it away from the house elf with a quick “thank you, please leave me, Fitz.”

_Theo,_

_I’m a coward. Can you believe it? Consummate Gryffindor like me, and I’m running away. I’ve been dreaming about this day since I was ten years old, and it’s made me blind to the reality of the situation. Harry would never leave me because it’s not in his nature, but Theo, we wouldn’t be happy together. I’ve been selfish to hold on to him for this long. Be patient with him, for I don’t think he’s quite going to understand, and he’s going to blame himself, the idiot. Please know that I love you both dearly, and I hope that someday you’ll both be able to forgive me._

_Make each other happy._

_Love,_

_Ginny_


	2. Week 2: Green & Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing Ginny Weasley and Blaise Zabini  
> Prompt: Green/Jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> implied infidelity

Green was not a good color on Blaise Zabini.

If Ariadne Nyx Zabini had taught her son anything (aside from how to kill seven husbands and get away with it), it was how to find the most flattering color for your skin tone. And for the only male Zabini, green wasn’t it.  
A reluctant Slytherin, he’d hoped never to don green again after graduation, but Zabinis were expected to work until their twenty-fifth birthday before receiving their inheritance. Thus, he donned the green and gold quidditch kit of the Poolewe Bearded Goats, playing chaser alongside Ginny Weasley, for the winningest level two quidditch team in the UK.

He was pulling off his practice gear one September afternoon when a stunned looking Ginny walked into the locker room and announced, “I’ve been called up by the Harpies.”

The rest of the team erupted into cheers, patting her on the back and demanding she buy the first round, now that she’d be on a Premier League salary. Blaise, meanwhile, dressed silently waiting for the rest of the team to depart before turning to Ginny.

“Why take it? The Harpies haven’t won a game in five years and we’re three games away from the league championship.”

She looked at her feet, at her locker, anywhere but at him. “It has a lot to do with Harry. He saved the world when he was seventeen, Blaise. I want a chance to be known as someone other than just ‘Harry Potter’s wife,’ you know? And besides, you get your inheritance in three months. Do you really expect me to believe you’d stick around after that?”

“I’d stick around for you.” Only when he heard her gasp did Blaise realize he’d spoken aloud.

She took his hand in hers, and as much as he wanted to pull free of her grasp, he couldn’t bear to lose the connection. He stared at their intertwined fingers, marveling at the intricacies of each synapse taking note of where his skin ended and hers began, sending the feel of her racing toward his brain, which in turn told him to hold tighter, to never let go. He drew her closer, pressed his lips to hers, felt her melt into his arms, into his mouth.

“Blaise –”

The connection broke at the sound of her voice, pleading for understanding. “It’s fine, Ginevra.” He stepped back, drawing her hand to his lips. “Good luck.”

Green was not a good color on Blaise Zabini.

And if Ariadne Nyx Zabini had taught her son anything (aside from how to find the most flattering color for your skin tone), it was how to kill seven husbands and get away with it.


	3. Week 3: My Favorite Assassin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing Pansy Parkinson and Percy Weasley  
> Prompt: Gray/Complexity

The party was dull; all society functions were. Without the social lubrication a few glasses of champagne provided Pansy was ready to murder everyone here, instead of just her intended target.

She caught sight of Finch Dickcissel (whose parents deserved a spot on Pansy’s hit list for bestowing their progeny such an idiotic name) leaving the party, a witch who was decidedly _not_ his wife tagging along.

“ _Exemplum patronum_ , _homenum evanesum_.” Fully disillusioned, Pansy admired the patronus she’d summoned. To the casual observer, it was her double in every way, its usual ethereal shimmer hidden by the charmed silver dress she wore. So long as no one tried to engage in conversation beyond the usual niceties, any partygoer could have a full, if boring, conversation with the patronus, giving Pansy a much-needed alibi.

She shadowed Finch to a bedroom and stood, ear to the door, for her least favorite part of the job: waiting. Voyeurism had never done it for Pansy, so she half listened from the hallway. As her target neared completion, six Specialist Spells Command Aurors swept into the hallway, wands ready, trailed by Percy Weasley, head of Ministry Intelligence Section 5.

Pansy heard a pop, felt a stream of liquid trickling down her legs, and doubled over as a contraction swept across her uterus so aggressively, she lost control of her disillusionment charm.

Weasley moved first, hitting Pansy square on the shoulder with a _petrificus totalus_. She fell to the ground, her emergency evacuation portkey mercifully falling into her hand, pulling her to safety.

\--

“Perseus Ignatius Weasley, you had better have a good reason for jinxing your wife while she was on assignment or so help me, I will end you and raise this child on my own! It will look like an accident. PERCY!”

He apparated behind her, throwing up a _protego_ as his incredibly angry, immensely pregnant wife turned on him.

“I was working, Percy!” She sent a stinging jinx at him.

“I know, but –”

“You said you were okay with me taking this assignment!” Jelly-legs jinx.

“I am, sweetums –”

“Why didn’t you _tell me_ the ministry was taking him out today?” Bat-bogey hex.

“My patronus couldn’t find you through your protective charms–”

“So you _jinxed_ me? You ruined my favorite dress! It’s charmed to always make me look a size 2, no matter how massive I get! It was one of a kind.” bemoaned Pansy before she collapsed, spent. Percy dropped his protective spell, rushing to her side.

“Pansy, I’m sorry. I had to make it believable. _Petrificus totalus_ is safe for the baby. I levitated the portkey into your hand to bring you home. It would certainly complicate things at work if I were seen going easy on MI5’s most wanted assassin, hmm?”

Pansy pouted, then acquiesced. “I suppose. But _don’t_ get in my way again. You owe me a new dress.”

Percy kissed his wife. “Yes, dear. Now, let’s get to the hospital and meet our baby, shall we?”


	4. Week 4: JERKSS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing Daphne Greengrass and Harry Potter  
> Prompt: Orange/Creativity  
> 100 word limit

Daphne took an embarrassingly long time to decide what to wear, settling on a simple orange dress. To her dismay, Harry didn’t spare her a glance as she launched into her presentation.

“The Jobs, Employment and Reintegration for Kids from Slytherin Solution -” 

“Daphne, that spells -” Harry interrupted.

“It’s a working title! My creative team thinks he’s funny,” she said, cursing Theo’s sardonic sense of humor. “Should’ve hired Hufflepuffs.”

***

Daphne never did change the initiative’s name, and when her husband thanked the JERKSS at their fiftieth anniversary party, she hid her snort behind a bouquet of orange ranunculus.


	5. Week 5: Allowed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood  
> Prompt: Yellow/Playful  
> Warning: Major Character Death (not described), grieving
> 
> Thanks for reading! It was so fun to be a part of this. This was my favorite one, even if it was the one that got me eliminated.

The half-painted walls, the furniture half put together, the enchanted stuffed broom hovering a few inches off the floor, everything in the room was mocking her. Even the color, _playful daffodil_ , was an affront.

Ginny kept up a constant stream of muttering, tears streaking down her face as she rolled stripe after stripe of the nauseatingly happy yellow across the wall. “I told you it’s Hufflepuff yellow, Harry. I. Told. You. I told you this was Hufflepuff yellow and you didn’t believe me and now our daughter is going to grow up thinking her father didn’t think she belonged in Gryffindor and _you won’t be here to tell her you’d be proud of her even if she’s in Slytherin_. Dammit, Potter! What good it is being the Boy Who Lived when you’re the Auror Who Died and Left His Family Behind?” She’d been slowly getting louder until suddenly she was shouting, her throat raw as she screamed at the memory of her husband, haunting her in the unfinished details of the nursery.

This was how Luna found her, minutes, hours, days later, a crumpled heap of snot, with streaks of yellow marring her red pigtails.

“Where’s your broom?” she asked, and Ginny simply stared.

“My broom? I don’t keep it at home anymore, not since James fell off last summer.”

“Ok then. I brought my aunt Mary’s broom, you can use it” she said, and handed her a Muggle vacuum.

Ginny accepted it without question, watching as Luna gracefully mounted her own broom. A cruiser that looked like it might have belonged to Luna as a child, the broom had large, comfortable banana seat and handles sporting yellow and white streamers.

“Come, we fly.” The two women kicked off, and Ginny followed Luna without question, her mind finally free to wander as she soared through the air. The wind on her skin, even at the lazy pace Luna set, was a balm on her frayed nerves, her heart racing from the exertion rather than anger or grief. They set down in a field of evening primrose before an intentionally broken pillar, a monument to Pandora, a life unfinished.

Ginny watched, feeling like an intruder, as Luna weaved a crown of flowers to place at the base of the pillar, leaning her head against the stone for several silent minutes before sitting in the shadow it cast. Luna indicated for Ginny to sit beside her, andLuna stroked Ginny’s hair, which had long fallen loose.

“My favorite thing about Harry was watching him play Quidditch with the boys. He was infinitely patient with them. I think he would have been a great flying instructor.”

Ginny sobbed, a great heaving bark of a sound. “He’d still be here if he had been.”

“Maybe. You’re allowed to be angry. You’re allowed to be happy. You’re allowed to play and to laugh and to love, Ginny. I just want you to know.”

The two women sat in silence, contentedly alone with their own grief.


End file.
